Captive: The Ancestors Saga, #2.5

By Lori Holmes

'Captive' is the re-telling of Book 2 of The Ancestors Saga, Daughter of Ninmah, through Khalvir's eyes. The Ancestors Saga continues with Book 3, Enemy Tribe...

 

A hunter, a protector, a Raknari warrior. He is Forbidden.

 

Raised his entire life for the sole purpose of defending his clan, Khalvir serves the chief who saved him from certain death. A death at the hands of the hated elves; a people who see him only as an abomination to be destroyed.

 

Now a captive in his enemy's clutches, Khalvir must find a way to escape the mysterious elf witch who holds him. An elf whose motives remain shrouded but whose very presence calls to his soul, threatening to turn every truth he has ever known into a lie…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lori Holmes
• Release date: May 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9798223402701

Book preview

Captive

Companion Novel to Book 2 of The Ancestors Saga: Daughter of Ninmah

Copyright © 2020 by Lori Holmes

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

The Ancestors Saga

Exciting and compelling, The Ancestors Saga takes you on an epic journey 40,000 years into our own dark and forgotten past. As the world teeters on the brink of another glacial winter, homo sapiens are not the only human species to walk the Earth.

When the destiny of the entire human race hangs in the balance, the prize for survivors will be Earth itself.

The Ancestors Saga is a fantasy fiction series, a thrilling combination of history, mythology, fantasy, and adventure, retelling a lost chapter in the evolution of humankind.

About the Author

Lori Holmes is the author of the bestselling Ancestors Saga and the companion series The Raknari Trilogy.

The idea for the Ancestors Saga first came to Lori in 2008 when her mother made a passing comment, 'what could the human race have become if only we had followed a spiritual path, rather than a technological one?' The comment set off a chain reaction. Two main characters came to life. The first was a young woman whose people had rejected technology and evolved a spiritual connection to the living world around them. The second was a man. This man was half ordinary human and half 'spiritual' human.

For a time, that was all there was, two characters sitting in a pool of light, surrounded by a mysterious darkness. This went on until one day, having a keen interest in prehistoric and ancient history, Lori was reading an article outlining evidence that our modern human ancestors interbred with the other human species we once shared our planet with. And that, as they say, is history. An ancient and icy world opened out around the two main characters, a changing world filled at once with danger and possibility, where the fate of man, in all its known and unknown forms, had yet to be decided.

Adding a dash of legend, myth, and Sumerian theories on the creation of mankind, The Ancestors Saga was born.

Lori’s debut novel, The Forbidden, begins the epic journey into the Ancestors Saga, combining history, mystery and legend to retell a lost chapter in humanity’s dark and distant past.

Lori currently lives in Shropshire, England. When not lost in the world of The Ancestors Saga, she enjoys spending time with her family (three children, two whippets and her husband - it’s a busy house!). Lori can usually be found outdoors walking and exploring the great British countryside.

Find out more at www.loriholmesbooks.com

Also By Lori Holmes

The Ancestors Saga

Book 1 | The Forbidden

Book 2 | Daughter of Ninmah

Companion Novel To Book 2 | Captive

Book 3 | Enemy Tribe

Book 4 | The Last Kamaali

The Raknari Trilogy

Book 1 | Echoes of The Forgotten

Book 2 | Call of The Warrior

Book 3 | Whispers of Fate

Captive

Companion Novel to Book 2 of The Ancestors Saga: Daughter of Ninmah

Lori Holmes

Visual8 Publishing Ltd.

Contents

1.Fallen

2.Stranger

3.A Leader Lost

4.Resistance

5.Fury

6.Search

7.Defeat

8.Accepance

9.At Bay

10.Building Trust

11.Deception

12.Shadows

13.Beliefs

14.Attack

15.Power

16.Shunned

17.Uncontrollable

18.Pain

19.Return

20.Betrayal

Also By Lori Holmes

Chapter 1

Fallen

Khalvir ran through the trees. The forest was dark, pressing in all around him as the sounds of the night roared in his ears. He was careful to keep his wits about him as he plunged through the restraining undergrowth.

This forest was not safe, filled as it was with elf mischief and magic. He could feel it, hazing across his latent inner senses, his own hated elf blood rising in answer. Khalvir quashed it viciously, before realising the sounds of his men running behind him could no longer be heard over the din of this accursed place. He had outpaced them. He gritted his teeth. It would not do to be separated. Coming to a stop beneath the overhanging branches of a thick-bodied tree, Khalvir reluctantly took a moment to steady his breath and await his fellow raiders.

He chafed at being still. It gave him too much time to reflect on the failed raid. The elf settlement had been empty, and he cursed his bad luck. His Chief would not be pleased. Each time, the Chief would send Khalvir and his men out into the forests where elves had been sighted and each time Khalvir would return empty-handed.

The Chief had made it clear that this was Khalvir’s last chance and that if he failed, his displeasure would be immense. Khalvir winced beneath the spear cat skull covering his face. He had failed.

The old resentment he felt for his Chief stirred inside his chest, and he was quick to stamp on it. Khalvir struggled to understand the irrational hatred that he felt when he met those dark eyes at times. It was a feeling that had existed since their very first encounter, when he had awoken in this very forest, lost and confused, his memories stolen by the elf-witches. Khalvir blew out a breath. His Chief was hard, even brutal, but without him Khalvir would have been dead long ago. Dead at the hands of the very creatures he now sought.

True hatred blazed within his heart as he thought of the witches; murderous wood sprites that they were. He did not understand his Chief’s need to possess them. Their magic was nothing but evil and trickery.

At least this raid had not been a complete waste of time. Stores of the elf-witches' food had been abandoned along with the settlement. Khalvir had ordered his men to gather as much as they could carry away, hoping such a gift would appease his Chief. The roots and fruits the elves grew in these forests were far more sustaining than anything that could be foraged out on the Plains.

Khalvir shifted uneasily beneath the tree as a prickle ran up his spine. The elves may be gone, but he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that he was being watched. It was as if their ghosts lingered, cursing him with their unseen eyes. He tightened his grip on the long curving knife in his hand. The familiar weight in his palm was reassuring. Khalvir longed for clear open spaces of the Plains where an approaching enemy could be easily detected.

At last, his men arrived. The muffled sound of footfalls and rustling leaves came first, then the puff of breath in the cool air. One by one, they emerged from the shadows and joined Khalvir under the tree. Their tense movements betrayed their own unease.

What are we going to do, Khalvir? Galahir’s low voice sounded from beneath the great oxen skull that concealed his coarse features. Khalvir's most trusted companion’s query was heavy with concern. The Chief will not be pleased.

Khalvir sighed. There is nothing to be done. The elves are gone. Perhaps there are no more to be found. I will be the one to inform him of the failure. No one else need share in his displeasure.

Galahir shifted as though he was about to protest, but Khalvir silenced him with a warning glance. It would be foolish to speak ill of their Chief in such company. Not all here were friends.

Khalvir glanced to where Lorhir lurked upon the edges of the group, dark and lean. That jackal would relish any opportunity to sour Khalvir’s favour with their Chief. It was Lorhir’s greatest ambition to see Khalvir fall from grace. Khalvir gave a soft snort. It seemed Lorhir’s prayers were about to be answered.

Rest, he told his men. I want to be out of this forest by daybreak, and it is a long way to the borders. I dislike the feel of this place.

He was not alone in his assessment. Weary as his men were, their shadowed eyes darted beneath their varying skull masks as they sank to the ground. Khalvir was sure half of them would like to forego the respite and run until dawn, run until the trees no longer crouched over their heads, cutting off the sky, but it was unwise to deplete their energy reserves. A warrior must always have strength enough left to fight. One could never know when it might be needed.

Khalvir had just lowered himself to his haunches when it happened. A sudden snapping of wood from above shattered the silence.

Khalvir shot back to his feet, his men moving as one around him, as a high-pitched cry cut through the air.

Nyri!

Khalvir sucked in a breath. Two she-elves perched high in the tree above them, one dark, one silver-haired. The branch beneath the silver-haired witch had snapped, pitching her towards the ground. She clung and clawed at her companion, trying to save herself as the branch supporting her body gave way completely beneath her weight.

No! Kyaati! The dark-haired girl screamed in the tongue of the elves.

The heavy branch came crashing down through its brethren. Khalvir and his men scrambled back as it smashed into the earth where they had been resting. The grip of the dark-haired girl failed, and her silver-haired companion came tumbling in its wake.

Khalvir knew it was too late for her. No one could survive a fall from such a great height. The she-elf's helpless body bounced off one branch, then another. Khalvir could almost hear her bones snapping before she crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud. Her cries cut off abruptly.

For one stunned moment, no one moved. Khalvir stared at the stricken elf-witch. The quarry he had thought lost had fallen right at his feet like a gift from Ea Himself. And yet, Ea appeared to have a twisted sense of humour. He had thrown an elf to Khalvir’s feet, but now the thing lay dead and broken at the base of a tree. Khalvir did not even look up to seek the other she-elf. She would be long gone, disappearing into the trees like the demon she was.

Khalvir studied the fallen creature. She had been with-child. His lips pulled back in a grimace at the double stroke of misfortune. Such a prize would have been a gift beyond his Chief's imagining. Now it was wasted to death.

Or was it? The barest of movements caught his eye, and Khalvir took a step forward. To his utter disbelief, he saw the elf-witch was still breathing. A trickle of hope cut through the gloom. If she and the infant she carried could be saved…

A cat-like snarl and a rushing of leaves was Khalvir’s only warning. The dark-haired she-elf that he had all but dismissed came flying down the tree like a vengeful falcon. Her own preservation seemed to matter little to her as she threw herself recklessly to the ground to land between him and her fallen companion.

Her courage was impressive to behold. Fierce indigo eyes caught and held his. Khalvir’s muscles locked down; her face stunning him into immobility. He was floating, detaching from reality. Khalvir swayed, and the elf-witch stooped to grab hold of the fallen branch. She swung it at him as he stood paralysed before her, groping for his senses as an explosion of feelings swept through him.

Or at least she tried to. The weight of the large branch proved too much for her slight body, but she fought to brandish it all the same. The aggressive action did not register. Khalvir's ears were ringing, his mind swirling. Her indigo eyes were at the centre of the maelstrom. Before he was aware of it, he stepped forward, only wanting to be nearer.

Get away! the elf witch hissed between her teeth.

Another step. It was as though he was being drawn by an invisible cord. Unconsciously, Khalvir lifted a hand towards her. This one was coming with them, whether she liked it or not.

Leave her alone! Get away from us! the elf-witch continued to screech in her peculiar tongue, but now an edge of desperation was eating away at her rage.

Khalvir's men laughed at her feeble attempts to intimidate their leader, and the harsh sound shook a sliver of reality back into Khalvir. The elf-witch bared her teeth in defiance. Khalvir took another step. Despite her bravado, she retreated.

The laughter intensified, and Khalvir felt a sudden, irrational flash of anger. This elf-witch was showing true courage. She deserved some respect. He twisted around to glare at his followers.

Quiet!

The laughter ebbed, and Khalvir refocused on his target. She was so close now he could almost feel her body heat against his outstretched hand. He shivered. Her glorious eyes fell on his hand and the stained knife he had all but forgotten. Khalvir watched as the strength went out of her. She knew she was defeated.